Lunch in the Backroom
by kryptiq
Summary: ."Calm down, Granger. It's just lunch. You'd think I asked you out. Not that I ever would." Draco Malfoy was a liar. - - - DM/HG with hints of FW/HG


******Title**: Lunch in the Backroom  
******Rating****:** K+  
******Pairings**: Draco/Hermione, Fred/Hermione  
******Genres**: Humor, Romance  
******Timeline**: Post-Hogwarts  
******Warnings**: None  
******Notes**: Written for drcjsnider for hp_fivethings comm at LJ. The prompt was _5 Lies X told X_. I couldn't have asked for a better assignment. Hurriedly beta'd on the 11th hour by Sami, as my first beta still hasn't contacted me. Any mistakes leftover are mine.

*** Beta'd again by Mrs. Phineas Nigellus. :D

I.

A lot can change in seven years. A little boy who knows nothing about magic can turn into a young man who defeats the Dark Lord. A prissy know-it-all bookworm can work for the most successful Wizarding joke shop. And the youngest Death Eater can team up with the Chosen One and the Sidekick to become the best Hit wizards of their time.

Seven years is a long time--long enough to dull and blur prejudices, to heal old wounds, and possibly, to foster new relationships. Possibly.

So when Draco Malfoy stepped into the new branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley one Tuesday afternoon and saw Hermione Granger behind the counter, he couldn't help but snigger.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Hermione Granger herself, Keeper of the Rules and Regulations, would accept recruitment to a joke shop. Tell me, has the Prophet written of a house elf running for Minister of Magic yet?" Draco said, grinning smugly at Hermione.

Hermione knew Harry and Ron had said they would bring their colleague in for lunch that day for the first time, but she never thought they were serious. Quickly masking her surprise with a look of indifference, she retorted, "Funny one, aren't you? I wasn't recruited. I applied." Hermione crossed her arms on her chest and cocked an eyebrow at him. She was attempting to look intimidating and at least a bit sassier, but it was hard, considering Draco towered at least a foot over her, wearing his impeccable Ministry-issued uniform while she wore her bright purple joke shop-issued robes.

"My initial reaction was amusement. Now, I am positively gobsmacked." Draco had placed a hand to his heart and had an expression of mock amazement across his sharp features. The glint in his eyes was devious.

Hermione huffed and dug around the boxes under the counter. "Well, consider my life's mission accomplished. May I interest you in a limited edition Daydream Charm?" She held out one of the small boxes to him. "These last two hours. It'll be like starring in your own movie."

Draco frowned. "A what? Movie?"

Hermione shook her head. "Muggle thing."

"Interested…," Draco studied the label on the box without actually touching it, scrunched up his face in disgust, and continued, "…but not quite."

Hermione replaced the box to its original place, and then reached under the counter. Her dislike of Draco wasn't going to keep her from doing her job. "Puffskein? I'm quite certain the females will find them adorable. Plus points for you." She held out her other hand and presented him with a custard-colored ball of fur. It was humming.

Malfoy scoffed. "I can impress the females on my own, without props, thank you very much." He threw in a sneer, just to be extra indignant.

"Nice. Good to know." Hermione wanted to roll her eyes while he was still glaring at her, but she couldn't. Literally. It was in the contract that Fred made her sign; she wasn't allowed to be mean or "bookworm-y" towards customers. And although Draco was not a customer , she doubted Fred would appreciate it if she was already in breach of contract her first week on the job. It was quite ironic.

Fortunately, before Draco could say anything more, Harry and Ron approached the counter. They greeted Hermione and apologized for arriving late. Ron had gotten carried away with Muggle takeout.

"We got you your favorite cheesecake," Harry added, lifting one bag to show her.

"Thank you," Hermione said, smiling at him. "Fred is in Hogsmeade with George, so it'll be just us four."

Draco felt something stir in his chest when she referred to them as "us four" instead of "us three and Malfoy." He schooled his expression to look indifferent, as if he hadn't heard her.

Harry nodded, then proceeded to the back room behind the counter, while Hermione made her way to the door to lock up for lunch.

"Good thing Malfoy got here on time," Ron said, clapping Draco on the back awkwardly. Clearly, they weren't at that stage yet. Sure, they were teammates, but that didn't exactly mean they were best friends already. Ron nodded at Draco and followed Harry.

Draco's eyes narrowed again and he sneered. He watched Hermione by the door. "Yes, because I'd hate to think of Granger all by herself in this shop."

He thought no one heard, but Hermione could practically taste the sarcasm in his voice.

* * *

"What are you doing Thursday?" Hermione was stacking the two-hour Daydream Charms on their own shelf now. Fred and George had started making more when the demand rose. Draco was leaning against the other end of the shelf, arms crossed on his chest.

"My job," he supplied automatically. His gaze was distant, his posture relaxed. It was two in the afternoon of another cloudy Tuesday. He didn't want to admit it, but he did like spending his odd lunch hour in the shop. The cafeteria in the Ministry was always packed, and the menu never changed. At least lunch in the shop meant hot, fresh takeout, and that was enough for him to disregard its Muggle-ness.

"Oh, I meant lunch. Do you have the same break as Harry and Ron's?" Hermione dusted her hands against her purple robes, bent down to lift the empty box that once housed the Daydream Charms. She stood still, waiting for his reply.

Draco nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"Join us again for lunch," she said simply, a small smile forming. "It's like a feast in the backroom, as you just saw. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the only days they get to join us, so the blokes go overboard with the takeout."

Hermione sounded so hopeful, and there was a warm look in her eyes that he couldn't quite ignore.

"Alright, then."

He didn't look at her when he said it, but he knew her smile had widened. That was Hermione, so easily overjoyed by little things like Ron offering to clear the table, or Harry getting her favorite cheesecake for her.

"So you'll come?"

She did sound excited. Draco couldn't help but chuckle.

He kicked away from the shelf and walked over to her so he could grab the box she was carrying.

"Calm down, Granger. It's just lunch. You'd think I asked you out. Not that I ever would."

"Charming one, you are," Hermione said dryly, though she only half-meant it. The smile in her eyes was still there. Together, they walked to the backroom, where Harry was nibbling on a leftover dumpling and Ron was throwing empty butterbeer bottles in the trash.

II.

Draco arrived in the shop a few minutes earlier than expected, as usual . He never accompanied Harry and Ron when they went to get takeout, because he didn't feel comfortable in Muggle establishments. Ron thought this was odd, because if he enjoyed Muggle food, he should at least know where it came from. Draco didn't even bother to respond to that, believing that every one of Ron's arguments was trivial.

Draco closed the door and flipped the sign that said "We're Closed" around. He thought he'd save Hermione the trouble.

"Hello, Malfoy, you're early," Hermione greeted from behind the counter. "Couldn't wait to see me?"

Her playful flirting caught him off guard. She was in a good mood today.

"Granger, you flatter yourself," he said. He was not exactly sure whether to play along just to please her or end it there, lest Fred Weasley think he was flirting with her. He decided that he didn't really care either way. "You're not my type."

Instead of acting indignant, a mischievous smile graced Hermione's face. She crossed her arms against her chest and looked at Draco appraisingly. "I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

Draco snorted. "Really? And what do you think I'm doing?" He leaned against the counter. Okay, he had decided to play along.

Hermione copied him, leaning on the counter, too, so their faces were a foot apart. "You're being the little boy in the playground who pulls on the little girl's pigtails because he can't admit that he likes her."

Draco thought too soon. He stood up straight, eager to put some distance between them. He could tell that she was having fun playing around with him. Perhaps she ate a mind-altering sweet from the shop? He couldn't quite place her odd behavior.

Draco thought too soon. He stood up straight, eager to put some distance between them. He could tell that she was having fun playing around with him. Perhaps she ate a mind-altering sweet from the shop? He couldn't quite place her odd behavior.

He couldn't see any wrapper on the desk, and he knew Hermione was too smart to test or taste the products in the joke shop. He sighed. "Once again, Granger, you flatter yourself way too much. Are you sure you were Sorted into the right House? Are you secretly a Malfoy?"

Hermione shook her head. "You are in denial. And what does being a Malfoy have to do with anything?"

"No, I assure you, I'm not in denial. But this is disconcerting," he grinned at her puzzled expression. "You're becoming too self-confident and narcissistic. In the entire British Isles, one of me is quite plenty."

Hermione rolled her eyes when Draco looked away. A loud bang came from the backroom, but before Draco could ask, she explained, "Fred's here, by the way. He'll be joining us for lunch."

Draco noticed that she didn't look at him when she said it, although she was still smiling. And was she blushing? He couldn't tell, because then she ducked under the counter to rearrange a stack of small boxes.

* * *

Two weeks passed before Draco had lunch at the joke shop again. The past four Tuesdays and Thursdays were spent in the cafeteria or at a nearby restaurant in Diagon Alley. Harry and Ron didn't know this, because he had been telling them that he had Manor-related business to take care of at those times.

He wasn't avoiding her. Why would he? He just didn't feel like going unless she asked him. He didn't want to gatecrash. True, the first time he joined them for lunch was because of Ron's insistence that he visit the shop. The following lunches, though, were because she specifically asked him to come.

The last time they all had lunch together was that time Fred was around, and at the end of the meal, Hermione didn't ask him to return on Tuesday. Maybe she forgot, but he never got an Owl. He didn't expect one either. So he simply stopped going, making up the Manor business as an excuse.

Today though, he decided to give them a visit. Harry had mentioned that Hermione was wondering when "the other Hit wizard" would join them for lunch again. That was enough of an invitation.

Hermione's face brightened when she saw him making his way towards the counter.

"I'm sorry I haven't stopped by," said Draco. He tried to sound casual, maybe a tad apologetic. He didn't want her to think he was greatly affected by his missed lunches at the shop.

"No problem," was all she said. He felt her hesitation. "I'm sorry I haven't invited you over to lunch . I've just been busy at the shop."

How she knew about his preference of her lunch invites was a mystery. She probably didn't. Hermione was sensitive and smart—s. She must've figured out some reason for his absence. Still, he found it adorable that she apologized to him.

"It's not like my guts will cease to function unless I eat with you Potter people," he said, the usual sting in his voice absent. He tried to smile, but failed when he saw that she wasn't really smiling anymore. She looked pale .

"I'm going out with Fred."

Hermione had blindsided him so quick that he barely had time to pull his face together and not look so surprised. His heart was throbbing violently in his chest, though he didn't know why. It was probably the initial shock, like being told that a friend was expecting a baby, or his father was to be released from Azkaban. That was just it-—he was surprised by the news.

"Oh." Draco didn't exactly imagine his reply to be so unthought of.

"Oh?" Hermione looked surprised now. Her eyebrows knitted together, her hands balled in fists against the counter top.

Draco chuckled. "Do you want me to organize a party? Have a page in the Daily Prophet run your impending engagement?" He sincerely wished he sounded convincing enough. The shock still hadn't worn off, and his heart was still beating a tattoo against his chest.

"It's a bit too early for that, don't' you think? He and I only started dating two weeks ago."

Two weeks ago? The same week Fred joined them for lunch? Why was she flirting with him that Thursday? Perhaps she and the Weasley twin got together the day after. Draco's head was starting to ache now. He needed a change of topic. And what was taking Harry and Ron so long?

With a heavy, dramatic sigh, Draco said, "Granger, the moment I actually give a damn about your relationship with a Weasley is the day I will personally wash your hair for you, and comb it, too."

Hermione shot him a bored look. "You almost rendered me speechless with your sparkling wit and unrivaled immaturity, Malfoy."

"You are capable of speechlessness?" he asked.

Hermione smacked his arm.

III.

Another week passed. Draco didn't miss any lunches at the shop anymore, but that didn't mean he was having a good time. Harry and Ron had their own conversations that he couldn't quite join unless he had been a Gryffindor in Hogwarts. Hermione wasn't as talkative, but Fred was jovial enough for both of them. He also couldn't keep his hands off Hermione, slinging an arm around her shoulders every now and then. Draco found this to be disturbing.

Now that the Gryffindor men were cleaning the back room, Hermione was back at the counter while Draco tinkered with the puffskeins nearby.

"Lunch on Tuesday," Hermione said. It didn't sound like a request.

"Fine." Draco didn't turn his attention away from the custard balls.

"Something bothering you?"

"No."

"You've been acting different since you got here. If you want to wait for Harry and Ron in the back room, you may do so."

"Hmm."

"You're quite chatty, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, honestly, Malfoy."

"What?" Draco looked up at her. Her hands were on her hips and she looked tired.

"Why aren't being smart with me? Talk back. You were never this boring."

"Oops." He truly was mastering the art of looking passive.

"I know something's up. You don't talk this way. Monosyllabic. It's very un-Malfoy-ish of you."

"Right."

"Do you even know what monosyllabic means?"

"Duh." He rolled his eyes.

"Let's have it then."

She cocked her eyebrow at him as a challenge.

Draco grinned. "One."

She huffed. "Slick. Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, I'm not going to press you any further."

"Good." With that, Draco turned back at the puffskeins and thought about what would happen if he squeezed one too hard. Would it break? Reshape itself? Would the things die? He was going to pick one up but Hermione started to talk again.

"But anytime you feel like opening up, I'm all ears."

Draco sighed. "Sure."

Except for the humming of the puffskeins, there was silence again.

"Ooh, I have an idea! Let's play a game." Hermione's sudden announcement nearly made Draco squish the ball that was in his hand.

"No," he said too quickly. He wanted to run away. He wanted to look at the other displays in the shop--something he hadn't been able to do since the first time he set foot inside. The realization struck him.

"Don't be a wet blanket. This will be fun. I'll give you words, and you give me the first thing that comes to mind. Perfect for your monosyllabic self, right?"

He didn't say anything. He wanted to explore, so he sauntered over to the nearest shelf and looked at the displays. He was not sure which he could safely touch yet.

"Okay, first word...Harry." Hermione sure was persistent.

Draco decided to play along again. "Saint."

"Ron." Hermione had to shout that one, since he was already by the farther end of the shelf.

"Poor," he shouted back.

He heard Hermione scoff. "Come off it. Ron's not poor. I heard he bought you that limited edition Chudley Cannons training Quaffle for your birthday last year."

"Cheap."

"Whatever suits you. Books."

Too easy. "You."

"Fairly predictable. Quite disappointing. I was rather hoping you'd give me a more interesting answer. Do better, Malfoy. Fred."

The way she snuck in that word, like the way she told him about her dating Fred, was almost unfair. Draco swallowed, and quickly moved behind the shelf, shielding himself from Hermione.

"Well?" Hermione called out.

"Git." Draco wasn't sure if he meant that for Fred or for Hermione. He decided it was for both.

"If you're thinking about that punching telescope incident last week, let it go. You weren't the only victim of that wretched thing."

Draco didn't say anything, but his hand slowly rubbed his forehead. Fred had pranked him with the blasted telescope.

"Fred and I."

"No." Once again, he didn't know what that answer was for. No to Fred and Hermione? Or "no, I'm not going to dignify that with an answer"?

Hermione's voice snapped him out of his musing. "I'm interested in what you think of that. Your one-word opinion, please. Humor me." Perhaps it was because he couldn't see her face or the mask she'd wear to control her expressions, that he could tell a lot more from what she was saying. The tone of her voice alone told him that she was anxious... maybe nervous, too.

"Bad." He said it before he could stop it.

"Bad? Why? Bad in what way?" Hermione's voice had risen an octave.

"Match."

"Oh, you snaked your way through that one, didn't you?" She had expected a more detailed answer. "Why do you think we're a bad match? I'll have you know, Fred is quite a catch. He's funny, independent, wicked smart, talented, and he knows how to please me. He's--"

"Stop."

"Jealous."

"Never."

"I wasn't implying you were. I was giving you a word. And your answer wasn't monosyllabic." Hermione went inside the back room. Draco stayed behind the shelf.

* * *

It was Saturday, and George's wife's birthday. A feast was served at the Burrow. Draco was invited. He didn't really plan on going, but Hermione insisted so he could make up for the four missed lunches at the shop.

By late afternoon, when everyone had their fill of Mrs. Weasley's scrumptious cooking and a few bottles of Ogden's Finest, the festive mood had died down, and soft, pleasant music wafted through the air from the kitchen. George was slow dancing with his wife, Katie, in the middle of the garden. Ginny was trying to get Harry to dance with her. The other Weasley brothers were still partaking on wine.

Draco sat alone, grateful to be ignored. His only companion at the table was Neville Longbottom, and the man was slumped against the table, obviously knocked out by his five sips of Ogden's.

The sun was beginning to descend on the horizon, and Draco didn't want to stay for dinner. He doubted there was dinner. He made to gather his coat and find Mrs. Weasley so he could bid her goodbye, but Hermione suddenly pulled back the chair next to him and sat down rather roughly.

Her hair was a bit mussed from running around all day, helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. Her eyes were red and half-shut, and there was a tinge of bright pink on her cheeks. Her lips were red and swollen, too.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

Hermione shook her head unconvincingly and smiled. "You should be able to tell."

"I don't hang around with you lot, so I can't say I'm an expert in uncivilized behavior."

Hermione was obviously drunk enough to not care that Draco had just insulted her and the Weasleys. "You shouldn't ask people if they're drunk. Invites all kinds of trouble." At her last word, she winked at him, and slowly rubbed his sleeved arm with her warm hand.

Draco sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight. Hermione's hand and eyes were still on his arm. There was a small smile on her lips that disconcerted him. "Yes, right. Granger, I'm going to be blunt, because Merlin knows I'll act like a woman and beat around the bush--"

"Naughty," Hermione whispered, grinning now.

Draco briefly glanced at the larger table where the Weasley brothers were gathered around. Fred was seated his back facing them. "Not this time," Draco said seriously.

Hermione retracted her hand and placed them on her hips. "What's got your y-fronts in a twist?"

There was her grin again. It really didn't suit her. Hermione Granger was supposed to be prim and proper, not drunk and flighty. Her behavior was going to get noticed by her boyfriend and his family, and Draco was not going to get himself tangled in that inevitable mess. Still, he tried to find a silver lining in the situation.

He leaned close, but kept a safe distance, just in case she'd suddenly puke on him, or worse, misconstrue his actions as interest in her. "Are you flirting with me? Please say yes, because this is golden. I can't wait to tell your boyfriend."

She huffed, but still maintained her grin. "Malfoy, you flatter yourself."

Now she was quoting him. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and fought not to laugh. Never had he met a more confusing, uncertain girl like Hermione Granger. The few girls he'd been with at Hogwarts were predictable and easy. The woman in front of him weaved and bobbed her way around, not giving him a chance to decipher her actions and analyze what she was really doing to him. He didn't like not being in control.

With the patience of a parent explaining something very simple to a child, Draco patted her arm lightly and said, "Let me tell you this now, Granger. It's not going to work. Despite everything you might have heard or presumed about me, I don't find unavailable women appealing. I have no interest in trying to win a woman from another bloke, and I certainly have no time to skirt around said woman's schedule, dalliancing only during her free time. I am selfish--I never share."

Draco didn't give Hermione a chance to say anything else, because he gave her one last pat, grabbed his coat, and walked over to the Weasleys' table to bid goodbye.

IV.

Draco couldn't not go to the shop that Tuesday. He wanted to see how Hermione would act around him, following her little drunken advances on him that Saturday. He was in for a disappointment, though, because she didn't seem to remember a thing. She acted the same way she did around him.

"You'll be at my birthday lunch, won't you?" she suddenly asked. They were both rearranging the table and chairs in the backroom while Fred, Harry, and Ron took out the trash and opened the shop. "It's next Sunday. I know we just had a party last Saturday, but Molly insisted. I would've preferred a small dinner, but you saw how she is."

"Alright. But I'll be running a bit late." He didn't look up at her.

"That's fine, as long as you get there before dinner." Did she sound hopeful?

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. He pushed the last chair back under the table and sat next to Hermione on the couch by the door. "May I bring my girlfriend?"

Hermione's head snapped in his direction so fast, he thought she severed a nerve. "Pardon? Girlfriend?"

Draco shrugged. "Yes. Girlfriend. Do you not know what that is? Imagine I'm Weasley, but better-looking and just better at everything else. The girlfriend would be you, Hermione Granger. Except, her name wouldn't be Hermione Granger, and she would be quite pleasing to the eyes since her hair doesn't explode."

Hermione still looked dumbstruck. It pleased him to know that he could affect her that way. "When? How?"

He sniggered. "Are you seriously asking me that? Still want me to be there?"

She blinked several times, and forced a smile. (Yes, Draco could tell it was forced. She was finally a bit more readable now.) "Certainly. We'd love to meet her. What's her name?"

"Emma." Now all he had to do was find himself a girl who would agree to pretend to be Emma.

* * *

Draco arrived an hour late to Hermione's birthday party. He was alone.

"Malfoy! Glad you could make it," Hermione greeted when she opened the door. She looked ecstatic to see him, and she leaned in to give him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Draco stiffened, but recovered quickly. "I said I'd come, didn't I?"

Hermione looked around him. "Where's Emma?"

"Got held up at work. She sends her regards."

"That's too bad." She didn't sound like she meant it, which made Draco smile a little bit. "Where does she work?" Her chocolate brown eyes probed his silver blue ones, and he immediately felt that familiar urge to distance himself.

He stepped around her and hanged his coat on a rack. "Are we going to spend the rest of the afternoon talking about my girlfriend or are you going to point me to the direction of the buffet?"

At once, Hermione reverted back to her busy little elf mode and lead him to the garden. "Oh, I'm sorry. Right this way. What held you up? Harry said you didn't have any backlog."

"Other business," he replied simply, too dismissively.

"Right. I didn't mean to pry," Hermione said slowly. She handed him a plate and began loading it with small helpings of each dish. "Here, help yourself. Mrs. Weasley has truly outdone herself this time. The treacle tarts are absolutely divine."

"Happy birthday."

His greeting surprised her. She must've forgotten that he hadn't greeted her yet. She blushed and continued to bustle around him. "Oh. Uh--um, thank you."

Draco fished out a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. "Got you something. Open it later."

Hermione dropped the fork she was using to pile food on his plate so she could accept his gift with both hands. Her eyes positively shone, and it warmed Draco to see her so delighted. She hadn't even opened the box yet. "How very thoughtful of you. Thank you. What's inside?"

"Later. I want you to open it along with your other presents. That way, you can compare the magnificence of mine with the cheapness of theirs."

She laughed and swatted his arm. "Have I told you how charming you are?"

"Once, if I recall. Now, shoo!" He pushed her away with his free hand as he surveyed the other dishes on the table. "I'm famished. Entertain your other guests, lest they'll think I'm monopolizing the birthday girl."

"Thank you, Malfoy. This was very nice of you. You didn't have to get me anything. Emma is quite lucky, in some twisted way."

Draco simply nodded, not once taking his eyes away from the table. He found that he did that a lot of times, not look at her when they spoke to each other. "Yes. Curious, isn't it?"

* * *

It was nearly sunset. The sky had taken on a nice dark blue with shots of pink and orange by the horizon. The party mood had once again fizzled, and Draco found himself in almost the same situation he was in a week ago. This time, though, everyone had gathered in a circle, the large round table removed. Across him, Hermione was sitting on Fred's lap while the man nursed his butterbeer. She was leaning against his chest, her arms around his neck, and her feet bobbing up and down to the music that came from the kitchen.

"I have never seen Hermione dance," Ron announced.

Hermione set her foot down against the grass. "Yes, you have. Yule Ball, remember?"

Fred shook his head. "That didn't count, love."

Hermione looked scandalized and glared at Fred. "Why not? That was a very fun night." She turned to Ron, "Viktor was quite a dancer."

Ron rolled his eyes and chucked his empty bottle at the grass. "Please. Vicky could hardly walk."

"That's very mean of you, Ron," Hermione scolded, sounding very much like Mrs. Weasley at that moment.

Ron stomped his foot. Draco thought it was childish. "Oh, go on, Hermione. Listen, Celestina Warbeck's 'Squiggly Wiggly Heart' is on. Nice dance tune." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"I am not that kind of entertainer, Ronald."

Draco could see that Hermione's grip around Fred's neck had tightened. He wanted to laugh, but decided to lay low and just observe.

"I call for a vote," Harry chimed. He raised his bottle in emphasis. The others clapped their hands and raised their bottles in approval. Even Fred howled.

Hermione turned to Harry and tiredly sighed as she shook her head. "Not you, too, Harry."

"Come on, love, it's your birthday," Fred whispered as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Exactly. It's my birthday. So no pressuring the birthday girl to do what she doesn't please." She glared at every single person in the circle, including Draco, who hadn't even joined those who egged her on.

Beside Draco, Lavender was singing along to 'Squiggly Wiggly Heart'. "Dance with me, Ron," she finally said, turning to her other side.

"Lav..."

Draco tried to imagine Ron dancing, but ended up imagining Ron's head on Crabbe's body instead. He chuckled, and quickly covered up by taking a long swig of his butterbeer. His eyes landed on the cozy couple across him, and at once, the butterbeer on his tongue turned sour.

"Fred, what say you we join them, so Ronniekins won't feel too self-conscious?" Hermione said, twirling a lock of ginger hair around his finger.

"I'm right here," Ron barked.

"This is the only dancing you'll do, then?" Fred asked. The way he looked at her, with his voice low, made Draco feel that Fred wasn't aware of anyone else around them but the girl on his lap. Draco's chest tightened, and he had to rub his cold bottle against the front of shirt to remind himself that he was acting very strange today.

Hermione kissed Fred's cheek, the same way he did to her a while ago. "You're lucky I asked," she said, smiling. George and Harry wolf-whistled.

"Then who am I to decline? Gentlemen, excuse us."

Fred grinned at the other men, set his bottle down on the grass, and allowed Hermione to pull him towards the middle of the garden, where Ron was already awkwardly dancing with Lavender. Not even the image of Crabbe waltzing with Millicent Bulstrode could replace the memory of Hermione kissing Fred Weasley in Draco's mind.

V.

Draco skipped three lunches at the shop, but by Thursday, when Ron asked him why he was avoiding Hermione, he decided to go just to prove that he wasn't avoiding anyone and that Ron was "an insensitive git who knows nothing about what it means to be in charge of a Manor.". Yes, he was still using the Manor excuse.

When Draco arrived at the joke shop early, Hermione was in the backroom, but Fred wasn't around. He knocked on the back room door and leaned against the wall. Hermione turned to him.

For a minute, Draco thought he saw a brilliant glint in her eyes, but then her expressione changed to indifference, marred only by a slight smile. "Hi."

"You're acting a bit different today, Granger. Where's your boyfriend?"

Hermione turned back to the table. "Fred and I broke up."

That didn't really answer his question, but what she said sounded a whole lot more interesting. She sounded so honest, so open, that he didn't have the heart to play on that. But then again, he didn't know what to say or do in situations like these. His Slytherin friends never discussed their love lives with each other.

So he went with something along the lines of what she said, hoping to just ride the waves. "Emma and I broke up, too."

Hermione turned on her heels and glared at him. "Is this some joke to you?" she hissed. "What are you playing at?"

Her sudden outburst shocked him that he quickly went into defense mode. "What's wrong with you, Granger? What did I say?"

She crossed her arms and huffed. "So I get a boyfriend, and you get a girlfriend. Then I break up with Fred, and then you break up with Emma? What is this, Malfoy?"

Draco felt Stupefied. This was moving way too fast, and he didn't even know what was going on. Why was she suddenly so angry at him? Did she know that there really was no Emma, and she felt betrayed that someone lied to her?

"So I'm not allowed to date while you are? Is that it, Granger?" He closed the door behind him, but kept his back against the door. He didn't want to get to close to her just yet. "You don't care, remember? We hardly know each other. I have lunch here twice a week, and that's it. You don't like me. You're not allowed to care whom I date."

Now he was saying things he shouldn't. He was acting irrational. He wasn't used to women like Hermione Granger spinning his head around and then turning on him the next instant.

Hermione seemed to sense his frustration, because she relaxed. She bowed her head and said, almost inaudibly, "Fine, I like you. More than I should, really."

Her confession was another one of those things she said to blindside him. For a moment, he was speechless. So many questions formed in his head--why? When? How? What about Fred?

And then he remembered how happy she looked when she was with Fred, and the memory stabbed his heart.

"You don't sound jolly. By all means, un-like me if it's torturing you that much," he said bitterly.

Hermione raised her head so their eyes could meet. She was trying her best to maintain eye contact, and Draco found that he couldn't easily turn away. "Just for now, can you cooperate? Do you think this is easy, confessing? I'm a woman, Malfoy. I shouldn't be the one making the first move. I know you think differently. Women throw themselves at you the second they meet you; however, I am not one of them."  
Draco bristled when she insinuated that he freely had his way with women. He wasn't that kind of person, despite what others thought.

"What made you think you needed to make the first move?"

"What are you saying?"

She took a step towards him.

The hopeful look in her eyes was reeling him in, but the memory of her kissing Fred right in front of him still stung like a fresh wound. "I'm saying, perhaps you shouldn't have bothered."

She looked dejected, and Draco immediately regretted shooting her down like that. "Right. You're absolutely right," she whispered sadly.

"When wasn't I never?"

Another regret. He was being a jackass, and he was on a roll.

"I've made quite a fool of myself. What a waste of time," Hermione brushed her hair back with her fingers. She refused to look at him anymore. "Poor Fred--I even dragged him into this mess. No worries, Malfoy, I won't be bothering with you anymore. Forget I said anything."

She walked towards the door and made her exit, leaving Draco to think about her last words in silence.

* * *

Draco didn't go with Harry and Ron to lunch anymore. He didn't need to explain, because his two teammates seemed to understand, though he was sure they didn't know why Draco decided to un-invite himself indefinitely. Once, Ron asked if something happened between him and Hermione, since she wasn't very keen on inviting him back either, but Harry shook his head in reprimand. No one touched the subject again.

However, avoiding the source of his discomfort wasn't helping one bit. His odd lunch hours were spent eating crappy Ministry food while his thoughts were flying to the joke shop, imagining what Hermione was doing at that moment. Was she still upset with him? Did she get back with Fred? And what did she mean about dragging Fred into the mess? That part stumped him, and the more he tried to find answers to his questions, the more he realized that he was going to have to face her again soon. Things may not turn out well, but at least they could get some semblance of closure.

For Merlin's sake, he hadn't even gotten to kiss her yet! He hadn't even reached that phase where he'd admit his feelings for her to himself. Did he even like her the way she liked him?

He did get her a nice present for her birthday. And it wasn't just any present. Usually, he'd buy something expensive, something he'd see on display in a classy store, for his friends. But his present for Hermione was different--it wasn't something on display, or off the rack. He had thought it out, took a bit more time with it, and it didn't cost him more than a few Galleons. Surely that meant something.

Also, the way his heart would skip a beat when she'd smile at him, and the way his stomach fluttered when she'd invite him over for lunch. She didn't do much, and she certainly wasn't going out of her way to impress him the way that Pansy used to with her fine clothes and jewelry. All Hermione had to do was smile, and she'd undone him.

Draco clutched at his heart and smiled. He knew.

* * *

Draco fished out another pebble from his pocket and threw it against one of the glass windows on the third story of the flat. He hoped he got the right one--he didn't entirely trust Ron to give him the correct address, but he didn't want to wait until the next day, or he'd chicken out, and he wasn't going to ask Harry for help especially at this time of night. Harry was bound to be with Ginny, and if Ginny got wind of Draco's plan, Hermione would hear of it in no time. At least Ron could be trusted to keep his word and not tell anyone why Draco had asked for Hermione's address.

He threw another pebble, and called out Hermione's name as loud as possible. He was running out of pebbles, so he was going to have to step it up.

Finally, the light in the room with the window he was throwing pebbles at flicked on. The blinds were pushed away, and the glass was pulled up. Hermione's head poked out.

"Granger!" Draco called again, waving his arms up at her. When she saw that he was standing outside the flat, practically screaming her name, her eyebrows met and she slammed the window shut.

Draco contemplated throwing pebbles at the glass again, but after a minute, the door to the flat wrenched open, and Hermione was standing there with her robe on, her hair haphazardly tied into a ponytail, and her expression cold and angry.

"What's all this?" Hermione pulled her robe tighter around her body and kept her arms crossed against her chest. She looked around to see if any of the neighbors had gotten up and ambled out of their flats, too. Thankfully, there were none. "What in Merlin's balls do you think you're doing, you sick psycho? I have neighbors!" she whispered angrily.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, daring him to make the wrong explanation. He squirmed a little under her scrutiny, but stood tall, despite having a resigned look on his face. This was now or never.

"This is me making the first move, the way I should have three months ago," Draco explained.

Hermione merely cocked an eyebrow. "Fancy that," she said dryly.

Draco knew Hermione wasn't going to make the situation easy on him, that much was obvious. He had anticipated her reaction. He contemplated backing out. She didn't seem too interested in him anymore, with the way she was acting. But he knew, and he banked on this fact, that Hermione Granger was anything but fickle. However, she certainly was one of those girls who liked the chase.

"Granger, don't be difficult," Draco said, sighing.

Hermione looked scandalized. She took a few steps towards him as she hissed, "You have some nerve, Draco Malfoy! You wake up my neighbors at this ungodly hour, and now you're being rude to me. Go home." She stopped a few feet in front of him, and then stomped her foot angrily, like a little girl.

When Draco made no move to leave, Hermione huffed, spun on her heels, and stomped back to the door. Before she could reach for the handle, Draco's voice called her back.

"What do you want me to do?"

Hermione turned around and stayed where she was. She didn't say anything. Draco took this as his cue to continue. "Make up your mind. You don't invite me over to lunch anymore, Potter and Weasley won't talk to me about anything concerning you, and when you visited the office this afternoon, you blatantly ignored my presence, which, may I point out, is quite impolite."

Draco knew then that he chose an inopportune moment to inject his humor. Hermione now looked murderous, especially with her wild bed hair.

"Impolite? Me?" Hermione jabbed a finger at her own chest. "You are just absolutely ridiculous, do you know that? Perhaps your enormous ego has finally clouded your logic and common sense."

"You're quite feisty at three in the morning."

Draco didn't seem to know when to stop or how to control his innate ability to piss Hermione off. When he saw that her hands had curled into fists, he raised his arms to his head in defeat. "Fine, fine. Granger, I didn't come here looking for an argument. If I did, I would've gone to Weasley, because I'm sure I'd win that one."

Hermione was tapping her flip-flopped foot impatiently.

"You are wasting my time."

Draco was not a patient man, and her acidity towards him at so late at night--or early in the morning--was not helping at all. "And who's fault is that? If you had talked to me properly when I was in the shop, we wouldn't be here."

Draco seemed to have hit...something, because now, Hermione had placed her hands on her hips and sighed deeply. The angry expression on her face was gone, to be replaced by one of wonder and fatigue.

Hermione stared at Draco a while, and he let her. He stayed still and silent. He was tempted to use Legilimency on her, but he doubted she'd appreciate that.

Then suddenly, Hermione said softly, "Why bother in the first place, Malfoy? Shouldn't you have taken the hint by now?"

"Granger, I'm trying. So hard. You don't even know," Draco said, just as softly, although he sounded on edge.

"Oh? Then please, un-try, if the effort is torturing you that much." For some reason, when Hermione said it, it didn't have the sting he had. In fact, she sounded almost bitter.

"Your keen powers of memorization astound me." Draco almost clapped. Almost. If he did, Hermione would've slapped him.

"Go home and stay away, Malfoy," Hermione repeated. She sounded defeated now. Bitter and defeated. That was not very Hermione-like.

"Come on, Granger." Draco took a tentative step towards Hermione, but stopped just at the stoop. "This isn't easy for me."

Hermione nodded knowingly. "Now you know, don't you?"

There was a sort of finality in Hermione's tone, and Draco wasn't expecting that. He expected her to tease him a bit more, play with him, or at least make him lose his patience until he snapped at her. He expected her to not give up so easily on him. He could not bear her giving up on him twice now.

Hermione was still looking at him, but Draco knew she was just a few seconds away from turning back to her house and leaving him out in the cold. He wasn't going to put it past her to treat him cruelly. He didn't deserve her kindness after what he did to her, but he at least warranted a bit of her time.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and breathed in deeply. It took all of his courage to look her in the eyes. "Look, I'm not good with speeches, and I'm not even going to give it a go, not only because I think speeches are cliché, but because I know that it won't matter. At least, not to you. Just let me show you."

His words, which were the sincerest he had ever said, calmed her. She blinked once, twice, and bowed her head so she could stare at her flip-flops. "I love your present."

Draco glanced down at her now outstretched arm. A silver bracelet made of delicate chain hung around her wrist. Small charms dangled from the links. Slowly, making sure she wasn't going to pull her arm back, he held one of the charms between his fingers. It was an open book, and he had gotten it because books reminded him of her. He smiled, and then moved on to the next charm, which was a halo.

"Saint Potter," Hermione whispered, her voice now bearing the unmistakable feel of her smile.

The next charm was a silver Galleon to symbolize "poor Ron". He knew Hermione would hate it, but that didn't stop him from getting it anyway. She didn't say anything.

"Why isn't there a charm for you?" she asked. Draco released the bracelet, and she dropped her arm. She looked in his eyes instead.

When Hermione's eyes met Draco's, he was completely certain at that moment that he had done the right thing. There was no turning back now. Tuesday and Thursday lunches were never going to be the same.

With a smile to match hers, he said, "This is why you will have to let me show you who I am, so you can decide what charm I'll be."

She nodded. And unlike the way she shocked him with the things she'd said a few times before, she didn't need to say anything now. She simply leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

* * *


End file.
